What Love Means
by White Firebird
Summary: My entry for the one shot prompt challenge issued by Running On Crazy. #18. Phil sees that love even means sitting through Wicked on Broadway, just because she loves musicals. (based on AJ's fuse TV interview). He may not like musicals, nor will he ever, but if means seeing April be happy, then Phil would do anything to make her that way...and maybe, he'll find out what love means.
1. He loves her

**Hey everyone! Here's my choice for the AJ/Punk prompt challenge by Running On Crazy. I chose #18. "Phil sees that love even means sitting through Wicked on Broadway, just because she loves musicals. (based on AJ's fuse TV interview) I switched it up a tad bit but it remains faithful to the prompt. Hope you enjoy! =)**

* * *

The sun shone through his blinds and he groaned. He **hated** the sun, he **hated** when it woke him up, and he just wished that the sun didn't exist on days like this. He really was like Batman in the sense that he was more at ease in the dark of night, minus the whole protecting Gotham City from the likes of the Joker, Mr. Freeze, the Penguin, and the rest of the rogue's gallery thing. Slowly opening his eyes and letting a yawn escape his lips, he turned over onto his side, shielding himself from the sun, while also noticing that the other side of the bed was empty. She was _always_ up and about at ungodly hours. His polar opposite in that sense, he said to himself often. She would always love being out in the sun, doing all sorts of activities, enjoying herself, whereas when the sun went down, all she wanted to do was cuddle and enjoy a movie or her television shows. He didn't understand how she could operate like that, but he was more than used to it by now.

Hearing the birds chirping constantly, Phil rubbed his eyes to get the sleep out of them and stretched his limbs all about, before swinging his legs over the side of his bed, feeling the coolness of the carpet beneath his toes. Throwing on his new AC/DC inspired BITW shirt (yes, he had yet another new one, that's what happened when you were the leading merchandise seller in the company) he walked down the steps into the living room, right into the kitchen, where sure enough, there she was making breakfast for the two of them.

"Morning sleepy head", she said cheerfully as she cracked open a few eggs and threw them onto the skillet.

"Morning", he grumbled as he reached into the fridge for the orange juice, grabbing it and proceeding to drink it straight from the container. He could hear her audibly sigh, but he didn't care right now. It was his home; he would do as he damn well pleased.

She watched him as he put the container back into the fridge and then scratched at his long sideburns for a few seconds, giggling to herself as he kept at it. "Hockey ended a month ago. The Blackhawks won. Isn't the tradition to shave everything off _after_ you've won the Cup or been eliminated?"

"Yes, my dear, the tradition is just that. But I happen to like the new look. I know you weren't complaining a few days ago when—"

"That's enough of that, Phil. Come and eat your breakfast", she said a bit sternly, though with a grin as she put their plates down on the kitchen table. She couldn't help but stare at him as he attacked his pancakes and scrambled eggs with the same ferocity he displayed in the ring. She knew he was the best in the world, but she didn't think that it translated to scarfing down pancakes at the rate he was going. She was wrong.

He noticed her staring at him like he was some sideshow freak, and, placing his fork and knife down, he pulled his arms up onto the table, resting his fists under his bare chin, looking at her in an inquisitive way. "Penny for your thoughts, darling?", he asked in a saccharine tone. "Do you not like how I go about eating my pancakes?"

All she could do was laugh at the way he was acting right now. Ever since he took the entire Blackhawks team out for pancakes when they advanced to the Stanley Cup Finals, he had the hugest hankerings for them on their off days. Nine times out of ten, she would indulge him, as she knew how to make bitchin' pancakes (as Phil so succinctly put it), and he was always appreciative of them. He just must've been really, really hungry today.

"No, I think it's hilarious, Mister Best In The World. You look so adorable when you're eating them", she said, needling him with kindness and adoration.

He shot her a deadpan glare as he went about finishing off his breakfast. "I am not adorable, you know this. That word isn't even in my dictionary."

"Oh, whatever Wolvie", she responded with teasingly, finishing her own plate off, then standing up to put them in the sink. "Hey, we're still on for later today, right?", she suddenly asked, hoping he hadn't forgotten the plans they made a few weeks ago, right before he came back to work at Payback. He was prone to things like that on occasion.

"Yeah, of course we are…what exactly are we doing again?", Phil asked, feeling like a dummy for forgetting these plans, whatever the hell they were. Judging by the somewhat disappointed look on her face, he knew they were important, at least to her they were. _'Good one, jackass. Best in the world and you can't remember something as simple as what you're supposed to be doing tonight'_, he mentally chided himself with.

Shaking her head, she sighed as she put the plates in the dishwasher. "We're seeing Wicked, remember? We're going to the Oriental Theatre to see it? I got the tickets right before you came back to work? Is any of this ringing a bell in that noggin of yours?"

"_Well…_", he started off with slowly, running a tattooed hand through his still growing hair, his fingertips lightly grazing over the thirteen staples that were installed into his skull this past Sunday at Money In The Bank. "I mean, I **do** get hit in the head for a living, and my memory has never been the best…and I did just get these suckers stuck in my head", he said, showing the staples off to her once again. Once he saw that she wasn't amused, he groaned inwardly. "Yes, I forgot and I'm sorry. At least give me some brownie points for not making any other plans though!"

She looked at him and closed her eyes, whispering some choice words under her breath. Sliding a hand through her long, dark tresses and letting them fall over her shoulders, she walked up to him at the kitchen table and gave him a light smile, followed up by a chaste kiss on the forehead. "You're lucky I love you and you're so damn cute", she said as she walked towards the steps that went upstairs. "Be ready by seven!"

Nodding his head, Phil grinned. "Will do, ma'am. Wouldn't wanna be late for the big show!", he said as enthusiastically as he could without it sounding forced. When she was up the stairs, he exhaled deeply and ran a hand down his face. He couldn't believe he found himself in this situation. He absolutely hated Broadway plays, stuff like this in general. He was a gritty, grungy straight edge punk rock kid from the hardened streets of Chicago. He didn't go to plays, or Broadway acts, or crappy musicals, or anything like this. Why had he even agreed to this in the first place? He didn't know.

"Ugh, I hope this thing doesn't drag on like one of those sappy chick flicks…"

* * *

Phil took his seat next to her in the theatre, watching her as her eyes danced around the entire building, from the ceiling, to the balcony seats, to the curtains, all the way back to him and his tight smile. She knew this was killing him, coming here to a place like this that was so…unlike him. But she appreciated the fact that he was trying to have a good time for her. She more than appreciated it, if she was being honest with herself. She loved it. She knew that behind his edge, gruff exterior beat the heart of a hopeless romantic.

"Don't look so enthused, Punk", she lightly chided him, grinning as she laced her hand together with his, keeping a tight grip. She then realized he hadn't said anything from the moment they got out of the car till now. "You gonna be okay?", she asked, a bit of worry in her voice.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. Don't worry about me, okay kiddo? Enjoy your show. I know you've been wanting to see this for a while, so you should have fun with it", he responded reassuringly. The smile he gave her was a little less forced this time, because he genuinely wanted her to have a good time tonight. He always wanted to make sure she was enjoying herself, even if it was at his own expense. None of his issues mattered when it came to her. Huh. That's why he agreed to do this with her. So that's what it felt like…

She gave him that smile of hers, the one that could light up the sun and made his insides melt. He went to say something else, but she shushed him; the show was about to begin. Sighing, he settled into his seat and sat back, his hand still intertwined with hers, as the show started and he instantly found himself bored to death. All this Wizard of Oz stuff made him want to go to sleep…

Until he looked to his left and saw how her almond shaped amaretto eyes animatedly watched the events happening on stage. She was completely wrapped up in the story. He had never seen her so attentive before, maybe during one of his promos or matches, but not quite like this. She wasn't kidding when she told him that she absolutely adored musicals. It was almost as if she was starting to become part of the show herself, the way she was mouthing the lines the actor's and actresses' spoke, and in how she swayed her body back and forth to the songs, bobbing and weaving her head around.

It was at this point that he fell in love with her more than he already had. He had one foot in the rabbit hole already, but now, now he was fully submerged in it. This was, perhaps, the happiest he had ever seen her, next to when they decided to rekindle their old flame a few months ago. His attention was no longer on trying to get through the show without falling asleep; rather, it was on watching her enjoy herself. It brought him great pride, knowing he had a hand in this.

When the show finally ended, she looked over at him and saw that he was staring at her, a grin spread across his lips as leaned forward and gave her a kiss. "Whoa there, Phillip. That wasn't quite the reaction I was expecting", she said after they had broken apart, though she giggled at the goofy look on his face as their eyes remained locked on each other. "You alright?"

Phil smiled at her and nodded. "Yeah, April", he said, taking his other hand and grasping hers in both of his. "I'm alright. I think I have a handle on something now that I didn't before, though."

"Oh? And what would that be?"

He leaned in and gave her another kiss, just because she was his, he was hers, and just because he could. "I think I'm finally starting to figure out what love really means."


	2. She loves him

**So I decided to follow up the initial one shot and do it from AJ's side of the coin...hope you all like!**

* * *

_One week later..._

April sighed when she saw the giant banner welcoming them into the building. She closed her eyes and shook her head, unable to erase the grin that was slowly starting to creep across her lips. When she reopened them, all she saw was a massive sea of red, black and white. Looking over to her left, she saw the massive smile on his lips as he clapped his hands together, looking like a kid who had stumbled upon Willy Wonka's chocolate factory. He was at home here.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the sixth annual Blackhawks convention!"

The loud voice announced its presence as they walked into the convention center, swarmed by eager fans there to get their hockey fix, even if the season ended a month ago and would be right back in their lives a short time from now in October. She couldn't understand why people were so upset when the sport ended only to have it come right back as if it hadn't missed a beat. Hell, _Phil_ was like that. She could recite one of their many conversations over the past few days that led to them being here.

_"I need hockey. I miss it. October's too far away."_

_"Punky Bear, you still have baseball and the Cubs to fill your sports need."_

_"Yeah, but still. We just won the Cup. I want hockey back. Like right now."_

_"Aren't we going to that little convention for the Hawks this weekend?"_

_"**Little convention?**"_

_"Oh here we go again…"_

She laughed to herself at the way he would get so heated and so animated over his beloved Blackhawks. It wasn't enough that he had taken the entire team out for pancakes after they reached the finals, and still wasn't enough that he had gotten to hang out with them before their parade and got his picture snapped with the Stanley Cup (he had sent her the picture and titled it, "_I'm cheating on you with Stanley tonight, sorry crazy lady_", and it made her laugh harder than she had in quite some time)…he had to be here, to get some rare memorabilia, see the team again, touch the Cup again…he was such a geek for this stuff, it made her look relatively ordinary, standing next to him in her black and red Superboy shirt, oversized glasses and bright pink knee high Converse. Yes, compared to him, she was the poster girl for normalcy while he was dressed head to toe in Blackhawks gear, including the signed jersey from one of his favorite players (Keith? She didn't know).

"So, what do you wanna do first?", he asked, that lopsided grin of his having not left his lips once. She couldn't remember a time when he had been this happy for something. It had been that long.

"What do you mean, what do **I** want to do? **You** dragged me here, Phillip", she replied back with, entangling her hand with his as they stared out at the crowd in front of them and all around them. "I feel like I should cut you loose for the day and let you be amongst your fellow fanatics."

Laughing out loud now at the way he tilted his head to look down at her, she had to stop herself before she spontaneously combusted from her giggle fits. "You sure you wanna do that, Apple Jacks? You might be the tiniest person here…you let me do my thing, and I might not be able to find you till next year."

"Then send out a search party, Punky Bear", she said, nudging him slightly in the direction of one of the memorabilia booths. "Go on, I'll be fine. Maybe I'll learn something about this crazy sport that you adore so much."

He went without a fight, leaning in to give her a peck on the cheek before he left. But after a few steps, he stopped, turned to face her and had his trademark look of irritation on his face. "_Adore?_ I hate to quote Mizanin here, but _really?_"

"Go!", she ordered sternly, pointing ahead, and he did as he was told, which made her grin. Before she knew it, he was gone, lost amongst the countless waves of Blackhawks fans all here to get their fix with the reigning champions of hockey.

So there she was, an outsider so to speak, wandering around the Hilton Hotel, having no clue as to what to do with herself. She never understood the hoopla that came with hockey, why people loved it and obsessed over it so much. Having grown up in New Jersey, she knew about the Devils, and the fact that they were three time champions and had the best goaltender (she always wondered why they couldn't be called goalie, like in soccer) alive…but she knew jack squat after that. She remembered last year, when the Devils made a surprising run to the Stanley Cup Finals, watching everyone around her back home go crazy as the home team battled for the Cup, while she sat there like a stick in the mud, twiddling her thumbs and wondering what the big deal was about.

Needless to say, her friends and family weren't pleased with her lack of support.

"Signed collectable pucks here! Come get your signed collectable puck!"

Figuring that this was as good a place as any to start learning about the Blackhawks and the sport in general, April walked on over to the souvenir stand and began to check out its contents. There sure were a lot of pucks there, but for the life of her, she couldn't make out one name scribbled across them, only the numbers that they wore on their jerseys.

"Excuse me, sir? Who signed this one?", she asked the vendor, pointing to one that had the most recent logo for the finals on it. It didn't even look like a signature; to her, it was more along the lines of chicken scratch, but she wasn't about to say that out loud, not with so many people surrounding her.

"Ah, that one my fair lady, was signed Duncan Keith himself, star defensemen of the team and one of the nicest guys you'll ever meet", the man replied with gusto and a smile. "He signed about a hundred of these babies the day after they won the Cup."

"Is he the one that wears number two?", she asked a little shyly. Her limited knowledge of the sport sure was beginning to shine through here. When the man nodded, she breathed a sigh of relief, so she felt the need to ask another question. "He's the one with the missing teeth right?"

Again, the man nodded, his smile never wavering. "Yup, lost _seven_ of them during game four of the Western Conference Finals back in 2010 against the Sharks. Came back minutes later. He's one tough son of a gun, that Keith."

"How much for it?", she asked. She knew that Phil would love to have this if he didn't already. When the man told her how much, her eyes bugged out a little bit. "_Two hundred?_ Did he sign it with his blood?", she asked, getting a laugh out of the man.

"I originally charged a hundred a pop but they went so quickly, I raised the price a little. You know how it is in this kind of business", the man mused, and despite not really understanding what he meant, April nodded her head anyway. "This is actually the last one I've got."

Her ears pricked up upon hearing that. Looking over her tiny shoulder, she saw another man eyeing the same item she was, kind of like how Randy would stalk someone before he delivered an RKO. She had to act fast. "I'll take it!", she exclaimed right before the other guy could even open his mouth, a smile that was a mile wide spreading across her lips as she took out her credit card and gave it to the man to swipe.

"Here you go little lady, the last one. Adding it to your collection?"

Sweeping her hair out of her glasses as she placed the puck into her bag, she shook her head, still smiling, this time at Phil's reaction when she'd give it to him later. "No. It's for my boyfriend. He loves the Hawks. **A lot.**"

* * *

She spent the next two hours wandering around the ridiculously spacious hotel, checking out the various booths, getting more merchandise for Phil (she even bought herself a cute little hair bow for herself) and taking some pictures with the various fans who recognized her and subsequently geeked out upon seeing her. She hadn't seen Phil since they arrived, but she figured that would be the case; he was probably seeing some of the guys from the team, touching the Cup again, and just generally enjoying himself like she knew he would. For all she knew, he was in the middle of a pancake eating contest with some of the guys from the team. It wouldn't have surprised her.

Truth be told, she was enjoying herself as well. The fans were dedicated, personable and very, very friendly. They were also incredibly passionate about their Blackhawks, and now, just a little bit, she was starting to see why hockey fans had such a deep rooted connection to the sport and their team. It was an eye opener for her, she admitted to herself.

"Having fun, short fry?"

April damn near jumped out of her skin at the sound of his voice. He was directly behind her, grinning like the Cheshire cat, having somehow managed to pile on even more ridiculous stuff onto his person, which included, but was not limited to, buttons of various shapes and sizes, an autographed flag, mini hockey sticks, a few hats on top of his head…he was all pimped out from head to toe in everything Blackhawks, and she found it hilariously adorable. She hadn't seen him smile like this in who knew how long.

"Believe it or not, I am. I didn't think I would, but this…it's an eye opener. I can totally see why Amy goes to all the games with you", she said, taking one of his hats off and putting it on her own, getting a chuckle from him. "I might actually join you two next season…if you'll let me, that is. I know how ritualistic you two are when it comes to—"

"Are you _kidding?_ I'd love it if you came, and so would Ames!", he exclaimed, scooping his girlfriend into a hug. "I'm gonna turn you onto this sport so much…"

"One step at a time Punky Bear, one step at a time", she said with a grin as they laced their hands together while he led her through a crowd that was quickly gathering around something. "Where are we going?"

"You'll see", he said cryptically, though with a smirk as he tugged on her hand and continued to lead her through the massive crowd. After another minute or two, they stopped and Phil turned around to face her, that trademark grin of his not leaving his lips. "Well, shorty, here we are."

April couldn't see what he was talking about, so without any warning, she felt Phil's head between her legs, putting her on his shoulders as he lifted her up to see what he was talking about; the Stanley Cup. Fans were getting a chance to get their pictures taken with it, and it amazed her to no end just how majestic the thing looked in person.

Letting her down and back onto her feet, he pushed her through the crowd till they were at the very front. "Go ahead. I know you want your picture taken with that bad boy. You don't have to try and play coy with me. I know you want it."

She giggled madly as his hand fell on her shoulder and he nudged her forward. "You know, I think I know how you felt when I took you to see Wicked last week."

"Yeah? How so?"

"You did it because you wanted to make me happy and because you loooove me", she said teasingly, stealing a peck on the lips from him. "I know you, for a better lack of term, hate musicals and that kind of stuff, but you did it anyway. And you have no idea how much I appreciated that."

"You'd be right about all of that, especially the make you happy because I love you part because who wouldn't love someone like you?", he asked rhetorically, stealing a kiss of his own from her delicious lips. "What's your point?"

"My point is, I can see why you love the Blackhawks and hockey in general so much. I was wrong to think that your obsession was childish…I mean…look at me right now", she said, showing off her outfit. "I'm dressed like the geekiest girl alive."

Phil smiled, wrapping April into a hug before nudging her again to go get her picture taken with Lord Stanley's Cup. "And that's what makes you so endearing and loveable. Now you, go get your picture taken with the Cup!"

She grinned, but before she did anything, she dug the puck she had bought for him out of her bag and handed it to him. "Here…I got this for you. It's signed by your favorite player."

"Duncan Keith?"

"If he's the one with no teeth, then yes, that's him!", she exclaimed, her heart swelling with emotion as she watched his eyes light up upon receiving his gift. "I thought you'd like it."

He didn't say anything; instead, he just gave her a kiss and a wink, before whipping out his phone to take her picture. When she got to the platform, she stood next to it, but he shook his head. "I don't want you just to be next to it. I want you to lift that sucker over your head."

And she did as he asked, though with a bit of difficulty, seeing as she was so tiny and the Cup weighed quite a bit, but eventually she was able to lift it over her head as Phil snapped the picture. And then it dawned on her.

Much like Phil had discovered last week…she now too knew what love truly meant.


End file.
